Beauty and the Beast
by Patricia Sage
Summary: Kurt, a pretty but strange boy, wants a change from his provincial life. What he didn't expect was to find love in a gloomy castle, in which resided a beast with a curse needing to be broken. Klaine!
1. Strange but Special

**Chapter 1**

**Author's Note: Alright! So my sister and I watched Disney's Beauty and the Beast last night and we both got really inspired to write a Klaine version (btw, best movie ever woo!). So, this is a story co-written with her (her pen-name is _imaginess_! Go check her out!).**

**So, this story is a modern version, and I know that there is a crazy amount of those out there, but I'll try to make mine as original as possible. Hope you enjoy my insanity, and please tell me what you think!**

**I hope you all don't mind this too much, but I'm pretty much going to ignore the other New Directions members. Well, exept for Finn, who will make a fun appearance later. :P Curious? I hope so.**

Living in Lima, Ohio, Kurt Hummel was known as a strange boy. People would whisper behind his back as he walked down the hallways, trading gossip and rumours for a scrap of attention from anyone who would listen. To them, he was the peculiar, well-dressed boy who was always singing some song under his breath. Since there wasn't a glee club at their school, there was nowhere for Kurt's songs to go, so he sung them wherever he wanted to. Really, there was rarely a time where Kurt was not singing. Admirers said he had a song in his heart that just needed to be let out.

Of course, they would never admit this to anyone else, because Kurt was the strange boy and no one talked nicely to, or about, him.

There was one person, although, who had his sights set on Kurt, and everyone knew it. David Karofsky. He was, in fact, the reason that no one could admire Kurt. Since Karofsky had kissed him during freshman year, he had basically let everyone know that Kurt Hummel was off-limits. And Dave was going to woo him. Anyone who liked Kurt, romantically or platonically, was threatened by the football player until they backed off. Unfortunately, this left Kurt quite lonely.

He had ignored and passed off Karofsky's attention, but the larger boy was determined to make him his boyfriend. Kurt didn't want Dave, though. He hated him for the forced kiss, the forced isolation, and the forced advances. Kurt was a hopeless romantic at heart, and was looking and waiting for The One. He knew it was silly, but he believed in true love. And he knew that Dave Karofsky was not the one he was meant to be with.

Like every day, Kurt ignored the barely-conceiled murmers and continued to hum as he made his way to the rarely-used choir room. "Brad?" He called out softly. Brad was the janitor at McKinley High, but most people didn't know that he had a love for music. The man spend most of his free time at the Lima music store and that's where he splurged his money. Kurt and Brad had bonded over their shared love of music, and the older man allowed the boy to borrow some of the sheet music.

"Over here, Kurt!" The man called out, stepping out of the supply closet. He approached the pale boy with a smile. "How are you?"

Kurt shrugged, adjusting his messanger bag on his shoulder. "The usual." He looked up at the janitor who seemed to be his only friend sometimes. "Did you get any new music?"

Brad shook his head regretfully. "I'm sorry, Kurt. I was visiting my nephew over the weekend and didn't get to the store at all. Feel free to borrow anything of what we already have, if you want."

Kurt smiled, his blue/green eyes lighting up. "That's alright. If you don't mind, I'd like to take the _Wicked_ book again this week?"

Brad sorted through his bag before coming out with the shiney green and black book and holding it out for the tall boy. "I swear, kid, you've borrowed this thing at least twenty times, now."

Kurt blushed a little, taking the book full of cherished songs and placing it carefully in his bag. "I really like it. I can sort of relate to Elphaba sometimes, you know?" He said, biting his lip a little. "I take good care of it, though, I promise!"

Brad patted his shoulder. "I know. I'll see you later, kid. Take care."

Kurt waved over his shoulder as he left the choir room that nobody had used for years. "You too, Brad! Thanks again!"

Kurt ignored the over-confident gaze of Karofsky on him as he left for the parking lot and got into his car. Gripping the steering wheel, Kurt murmured under his breath, "There must be more than this provincial life."

He drove home, singing along to the radio, and pulled up in the driveway. He lived with his father in a small, but cozy, house. Kurt got out of his car and took out his key to enter. "Dad?" He called out, just in case. He knew that his father was most likely at the shop he owned as a mechanic, but Kurt liked to make sure he was alone, sometimes.

He set down his bag and took out the book of sheet music from his favorite modern musical. Kurt's dad had bought him a small electric piano when he was twelve years old and taking music lessons, and it had seen a lot of use over the years. The seventeen-year-old placed the book on the plastic stand and flipped it open. He considered singing along to 'The Wizard and I', which was a personal favorite of his when he needed a burst of optimism, but then decided on 'Defying Gravity'.

His old black cat padded into the room. Dorothy (named by Kurt at age eight) had been a gift from his mother before she died and Kurt adored her. "This is my favorite part of the musical." He said to Dorothy, playing a few notes on the keys. "This is where Elphaba pretty much takes charge of her own life and gets the strength to, well, defy gravity. No one is ever gonna hold her down." Kurt sighed, wishing he could do the same for himself.

**Author's Second Note: Alright, so that was an introduction to Kurt's life. Next chapter, we'll get Blaine's backstory (he is the beast, if you haven't already figured that out. :P) on how the curse came and all that jazz. Also, we'll see how Blaine looks like in beast form (I have some ideas, but suggestions are very much welcome! Do you want him furry? Scarred? Something else? Let me know!). Hope you enjoyed and you're wanting more! Let me know how it was in a review! :) Luvs ya!**

**Take care.**  
><strong>-Patricia Sage<strong>

**P.S. OMG Brad talks! xD**


	2. The Curse

**Chapter 2**

**Author's Note: I promise that my ANs with get shorter with time. Also, I promise to reply to every signed review! (Shout-out to Anna who reviewed annonymously! Hope you like it and we're glad we could answer your prayers!)**

**Dude, go look up Darren Criss' cover of 'Belle'! Sooo cute. :) Anyways, on with the story!**

Blaine Anderson used to be a normal boy. He had a lot of money, plenty of friends, parents who looked after him, and dashing good looks. He went to private school and got high grades, he had big dreams and high expectations. He had a wonderful voice and a wonderful reputation. All-in-all, Blaine was a popular boy with potential.

All this changed when he was fifteen years old.

It had been a dark and stormy winter's night. Blaine could remember lounging on the window-seat in his room and watching the trees get grabbed and thrashed around by the wind. He had been trying to get his homework done, but kept getting distracted by the sound of the rain and snow pattering mercilessly against the window, and he had finally given in to the mixture of curiousity and laziness. Resting his cheek against the cold glass and watching his breath fog up the view, Blaine had been thinking about his upcoming History exam when it happened.

A bolt of lightning had illuminated the sky near the Anderson's yard, revealing bright silhouettes of the statues and fountains, and also the form of an old woman walking down the path off the street and towards the house.

Now, the Anderson family of three lived in a huge mansion which had a placement about halfway between the towns Westerville and Lima. It was a barely-taken road that people usually avoided, because it didn't get you to either of the destinations at a faster speed. It was rare for someone to use that road in normal circumstances, so an old lady walking up to the mansion in a crazy storm was a very strange occurance.

Blaine had watched the woman with a mixture of concern and curiosity as she made it to the doorstep. He had heard the shrill ring of the bell and the equally shrill voices of his parents as they complained and both gone to answer the door. He had scurried out of his lavish bedroom and appeared at the top of the large staircase just as Mr. and Mrs. Anderson opened the heavy door.

"Sorry to bother you, but could I stay here for the night?" Blaine had been able to hear the old woman's frail, yet firm, voice as she spoke to his parents. He had also noticed that the old woman had a large dog-a husky-standing close beside her. "I'm afraid that I'm lost. We have no where else to go, and this storm is dreadfully dangerous to be walking in."

From his vantage point on top of the staircase, Blaine could almost hear the sneers and feel the glares **(AVPM reference!)** of his parents as they took in the bedraggled appearance of the distasteful lady and her dog. He had almost known what they were going to say before they said it. Years later, he wished he could go back and stop them before they did.

"You want us to just let you, a stranger, into our house and have you stay here?" Mrs. Anderson had exclaimed. "And with a filthy mutt, too!"

The old woman had looked at her with wide eyes. "But, please! I have no where else to go! If you make us go back out there, we will surely die!" Blaine had felt the urge to step in, but didn't want to face the wrath of his parents when they turned on him.

Mr. Anderson had turned up his nose distastefully as he reached to close the door with a comment of, "Dreadfully sorry, Miss."

The door hadn't closed. It had seemed like a switch of power had been turned, and now it was the old woman with the control. The husky had growled and stepped forward into the large foyer with the woman following close behind. The howls of the wind behind her seemed magnified as all the lights in the mansion flickered and then extinguished, leaving the Andersons in a terrified and darkened silence, which was broken by the witch's voice, that was no longer frail in the least.

"You are absolutely heartless and selfish people." She had hissed at them, her eyes glowing an electric green. "You cannot look past the appearance, the outer layer, of a person to see something more within. You must learn." Her terrifying expression morphed into a smirk. "Oh yes, you will pay."

The witch hadn't noticed the fifteen-year-old, frozen to the spot at the top of the stairs, but her dog did. Suddenly, the husky had started to bark and snarl at the boy, causing its master to notice him as well. "Who's this?" She had said, beconing to Blaine so that her magic took hold of him, forcing him to descend the stairs until he was in front of her. She forcably grabbed his chin, causing the boy to flinch violently, and looked him over. "This is your son, isn't he?" She had said with a mischievous glint in her bright eyes. "He looks like you."

"Please..." Mr. Anderson had whispered.

She had whipped her head to glare at him, releasing Blaine so that he fell to the floor. "Please, _what_?" She had taunted. "Tell me!"

However, Mr. Anderson had not spoken. He had only stood there in shock. The witch took this as an answer, and had once more turned her sights to Blaine, who was scrambling away from the growling husky. "You didn't want to let me in," she said to the parents, "because I was ugly. Because I had a beast with me. Well, let's see how you like having one under your roof _now_!"

She had shouted the last word of her speech and extended her arm toward Blaine, her hand looking more like a claw. Blaine had felt something like electricity connect with his chest and was thrown back a few feet from the force of it. The next few moments he could barely remember. All he knew was pain as his joints and bones stretched to breaking point; all he could hear were his own screams.

Once the pain had mercifully passed, Blaine had glanced up from his vantage point on the floor to see that the witch had disappeared. He had looked toward his parents for some kind of comfort or care, only to see them looking at him with horror and terror in their eyes.

"What?" He had gasped out, to find that his voice was more of a growl. He had struggled to get up and, in that action, looked down at his own hands to see them covered in thick, curly black hair. He screamed-

-And sat up in bed, nearly hitting David Thompson in the face. "Woah, jeez Blaine, watch it!" The dark-skinned boy exclaimed.

Blaine curled his fists together, his claws biting into his palm, and took a deep breath. "Sorry, David." He said softly. Sometimes, when he spoke calmy and quietly, his voice sounded almost like it used to, before the curse. He lived for those brief moments where he could pretend that he was like he used to be-that he wasn't a beast.

His friend reached over and patted him on the shoulder. "Another nightmare? Same one?"

"Yeah." Blaine sighed. "Well, it's less of a dream and more of a flashback."

David sighed. "Blaine...you've been having that same dream for two whole years. I'm getting worried."

Blaine threw off the covers and walked over to the windowsill, looking at his reflection in the glass with a remorseful expression. Thick, black hair covered every inch of his body; instead of being five-foot-seven, he was now at the hight of six-foot-eight; he had a gravely, loud voice that came from a mouth in which protruded long, sharp fangs. He snarled at the beast in front of him and turned back to his friend. "It's not the same one all the time." He said, abandoning the soft tone to his voice and allowing the growl to enter his speech once more.

David sighed, "Well, that one comes often enough." He walked over to Blaine and grabbed his shoulders. "Don't give me that look, Blaine. You have hope. You won't be a beast forever."

Blaine's hazel eyes cast downward. "So I've been told." The witch had come to him in a dream the year before. She had appologized for placing the curse on him to punish his parents, who had up and run off as soon as possible, leaving a distressed son behind with a bunch of hired servants. She had told him that, although she couldn't reverse the curse, there was a way for it to be rid of: He had to find someone to love, and to love him in return, before his eighteenth birthday. "We have two months before I turn eighteen, David. It's hopeless."

"No, it's not..." The boy started, but was cut of by a roar from Blaine.

"_Get out_!"

David sighed and left his friend's room. Even though he had been forced by the Andersons to stay here and serve their son, David didn't really mind. All the people who worked in the mansion were under a pact of complete secrecy regarding Blaine's "condition", but they all loved Blaine too much to tell anyone, anyway. Even though he was loved, the young Anderson still felt unbearably alone.

"How is he?" Carol asked in concern as David entered the kitchen where she spent most of her time, as the maid and cook of the mansion.

"His usual mopey self, I presume." Wes chimed in from where he sat in front of the fire.

David sat down beside Finn who was dosing on a chair. "Unfortunately, yes. He doesn't think there's any hope."

Finn woke up with a start and rubbed his eyes. "Of course there's hope!" He said, grinning his usual dopey smile. "That's what momma says."

Carol smiled fondly. "Yes, I do say that, don't I, sweetie? Because it's true." She said firmly to all in the room and they nodded. "No matter how little time we have left, Blaine can find someone, and I'm sure he will. We just have to be ready when that opportunity comes."

**Author's Second Note: Holy smokes, can anyone say HUGE CHAPTER? I can! That was a whopper! :P**

**Okay, here are a few things to clear up. Blaine is the same age as Kurt (seventeen) in this fanfic. The characters we know so far are: Kurt=Belle, Blaine=Beast, Burt=Belle's dad (Marius? Marian? What was his name?), Karofsky=Gaston, Brad=Bookshop Guy, David=Lumierre, Wes=Cogsworth, Carole=Mrs. Pots, Finn=Chip.**

**Take care.**  
><strong>-Patricia Sage<strong>


	3. To Have a Home

**Chapter 3**

**Author's Note: Yay! I'm so happy for all the favorites/alerts that I've been getting! That's amazing! Also, extra sugar-cakes to all the people who reviewed! **

**Don't tell the others, but you're my favorites. **

**No Blaine here, but I hope you enjoy the chapter, regardless. Burt, Kurt and Blaine will all come together in the next chapter! :D Enjoy!**

**In addition, DARREN CRISS ON BROADWAY! I'm so happy for him! :D Little Starkid's all grown up! :') Anyways...**

By the time his father came home from the garage, Kurt had dinner cooked and on the table, ready to eat. "Perfect timing, Dad." He commented as the large man hung his flannel jacket up on the coat-rack and made his way to the table. Kurt finished laying out the silverware just as the older Hummel sat down at the table. Looking up, the boy noticed something. He walked past his dad and took of the baseball cap that almost always adorned his head. "What did I tell you?" He threw the teasing comment over his shoulder as he put the hat on the hook.

Burt rolled his eyes fondly at his son's antics. "No hats at the table." He chanted, then reached out a hand, knocking Kurt's dark-green fedora off his head. He chuckled as his son pretended to look offended and picked his hat up off the ground, dusting it off. "The same rules go for you too, sport."

Kurt grinned at him, "Yeah I know," He said, fixing his hair and setting his hat down on the back of his chair and sitting down at the table. The Hummel father and son proceeded to eat the chicken that Kurt had made, served with a lot of vegetables and a potato dish. Ever since Burt's heart attack a couple months ago, Kurt had taken to making every meal as healthy as possible while still being 'edible' by Burt's tastes. "So, how was the shop today? You didn't over-work yourself, did you?" Kurt said, putting down his fork.

Burt sighed. "Kurt, it's been a month since I was released from the hospital. I'm fine." Kurt pursed his lips and Burt relented a little, because he knew that his son was one to worry and it was endearing in a way, if a little annoying. "And, to answer your question, work was great. I got a new employee and he's catching on really well, so..."

Kurt smiled a little. "That's good." He said, getting up and taking their dishes to the kitchen, shushing Burt's exclamations of how he could help. When the table was clear, Kurt found Burt sitting on the couch, watching TV. The picture was on mute because of a commercial.

The older Hummel gestured his son over to a spot on the couch beside him and Kurt obliged, taking a seat beside his father naturally. "How was school, kiddo?" Burt asked. "All we ever talk about is me, nowadays. Let's hear about you."

Kurt shrugged, noticing vaguelly that the football game was on once again, but neither Hummel really cared. "School's okay, I guess." Kurt relented, speaking under the expectant gaze of his father. "I mean, I'm getting good grades and the teachers like me."

Burt threw an arm around his son's thin shoulders. "What about the other students? You haven't found any friends yet, Kurt?"

Kurt sighed, resting his head on his dad's shoulder in comfort. "No. I mean, no one there really shares my interests, you know? I'm not in any clubs or teams because none of them appeal to me, so where am I supposed to find people I get along with? And don't give me that 'be yourself and people will love you' crap; I've tried that and it doesn't work."

Burt squeezed his shoulder. "Who said I was going to give you that speach?" He commented, choosing the easiest option to react to.

Kurt shrugged. "You're a parent. It's just what you have to say. Although, I'm pretty sure you already said it to me on my first day of Kindergarden, so you're off the hook."

"You only have to say it once?"

The boy laughed a little. "Well, one time is the minimum requirement, I'm pretty sure. Come on, Dad, didn't you read the parenting handbook or whatever?"

Burt folded down the collar on his son's probably-expensive shirt absentmindedly. "No, I think I missed that." They sat in a comfortable silence, broken by a sigh from the bigger man. "I wish your mother was here, kiddo."

He felt Kurt fidget under his arm. "Me too, Dad." He said softly, then reached over to hug him. "But you know what?" He spoke into the fabric on Burt's shoulder and didn't wait for an answer. "I'm pretty content with what I have."

Burt gave him another squeeze. "Yeah, kid, same here."

Kurt pulled reluctantly from the embrace and got up from the couch. "Well, I've got some homework to do." He said, smiling the little half-smile that always reminded Burt of his late wife. "And you just relax, alright?"

"Sure thing." Burt said, un-muting the TV as Kurt left the room.

**THTHTHTHTHTHTHTH**

The next morning, Kurt woke up at 7:30 in the morning to the sound of his father walking around the house, singing some Mellencamp song in his gruff voice. Kurt smiled a little, then frowned-what was Burt Hummel doing up at 7:30am on a Saturday?

The teenager got out of bed, ran a brush through his hair, and then made his way up, still dressed in his blue pajamas. He met his father at the top of the stairs.

Burt was dressed in his usual attire (flannel shirt, jeans, and a baseball cap) and Kurt stared at him for a bit when the older man spoke. "Hey kid, I was just about to wake you."

Kurt walked past his dad and towards the kitchen for some breakfast. "Why?" He asked, as his father followed him. "What are you doing up, anyway?"

Burt spoke as Kurt put a couple slices of bread into the toaster. "Don't you remember me mentioning the car show?" He asked.

"That was today?"

The man gestured to his state of dress. "Yes, it's today."

Kurt facepalmed, then grabbed a small plate. "Sorry, Dad, it totally slipped my mind. Where is it, again?"

"Town called Westerville, just a couple hours from here." Burt said.

The pale boy looked out the kitchen window at the gloomy-looking sky overhead. "The weather doesn't look so good." He commented. "Just be careful, alright? Take your ancient cell-phone, just in case."

The older man nodded as Kurt grabbed his toast and spread orange marmalade on it. He followed him back into the dining room, keeping up their conversation. "The show starts at 10:00 and runs for about two hours at the most, so expect me home at about 2:00, 'kay?"

"Alright." Kurt said, sitting down at the table and watching as his dad shrugged on his coat and grabbed the keys for his truck. "Be careful."

Burt grinned. "Always am." He said, then turned and left the house.

**Author's Second Note: Aw! :) Burt/Kurt bonding! I lurve them! **

**There was just a little insight on their home life with just the two of them and just how strong their relationship is. Sorry if they were a little OOC, but I think that they're uber close and they would be even closer if Finn/Carol weren't in their lives at this point. **

**Please tell me how you thought it was! Reviews are love! I reply to every single one!**

**Also, in case you didn't catch on in the first chapter (it was sort of vague), Kurt's not really bullied, per se. He's just lonely and doesn't fit in. He's kind of miserable, but not in the "I'm getting beaten up and death threats" way; more like the "I have no friends and don't fit in" way. Review, my darlings!**

**Take care.**  
><strong>-Patricia Sage<strong>


	4. There's a Light

**Chapter 4**

**Author's Note: So sorry about the long wait! I've slapped myself in the face and I'm totes ready to continue this story! Make sure to review and tell me how this was!**

Burt turned on the radio to the country music station as he drove, having it play softly in the background. He watched the road as Lima got smaller in his rearview mirror. The clouds in the sky ahead were the colour of smoke and Burt pressed his foot into the gas a little more. He didn't want to get caught in the storm if he could avoid it, so he planned to avoid it.

However, that wasn't meant to be. About halfway between his home and his destination, Burt noticed a flashing light on his dashboard and smoke coming out from under his hood. He swore, then quickly slowed down and parked at the side of the road, putting his flashers on. He pulled out his cell phone to call Kurt, but found that he had no reception. He shoved the phone back in his pocket, determined to fix the problem quickly so that his son wouldn't worry.

Burt, being the prepared mechanic he was, had a toolbox under the back seat of his truck. He grabbed it and grudgingly got out of his vehicle to asses the damage. As he lifted the hood, it started to rain. He was okay with this at first, because he could still see and he could still fix it. But then the clouds became denser and darker as they moved overhead and the rain became colder and in more capacity. Soon, Burt was soaked to the bone and with no light to fix his vehicle, which had an unidentifiable problem.

The man swore once more and slammed the hood down, looking around himself in desperation. He was alone, stranded in the rain, with nothing but the clothes on his back, a cell phone that didn't work, and a red toolbox. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't sleep in his truck because he would probably get pneumonia. He couldn't walk to either town. He couldn't fix his truck. He couldn't call for help and no one was going to be driving in this storm, anyway.

Burt Hummel was stuck.

Just as he was about to try and fix both the mechanical problem and the general one at the same time, he saw a light from the trees to his left. He quickly focussed on where it was coming from. It didn't look like the twin beams of a car (driving in the forest?), and it didn't look like a flashlight either. Burt, seeing no other option, started to walk towards the light. Soon, he came upon a branch off the road that was only about three car lengths away from his broken-down truck. He hadn't known that it existed.

The trees were on either side of this road, so Burt had a clearer view of the source of the mysterious light. It was light coming from a few windows in a huge mansion. The man looked towards the expensive-looking, obviously occupied house and then back to his small, dark, and broken-down truck. He set off down the road to the mansion.

The mahogany door had a huge, brass knocker in the shape of a small bird. It took more effort than Burt had anticipated to lift it. He knocked two times and heard it echo in some sort of foyer behind the door, then waited impatiently for someone to answer.

* * *

><p>The knocking at the door caused everyone in the mansion to freeze in alarm. It was so sudden and unexpected that the servants simply stared at each-other for a few minutes before finally springing into action.<p>

Wes and David ran to the door and shoved each other to get to the peep-hole. It was David who won the mini-battle because of his hight, and he looked through the glass to see the other side.

"Momma, what's going on? Nobody ever comes here..." Finn said, hanging back in suspicion.

Carol shook her head a little, frowning at the door, "I don't know, honey." She called out to David, "Who's at the door?"

David turned around quickly and pressed his back to the door, facing his companions. "It's a middle-aged man, soaking wet and looking very worried and very miserable." He sighed, "What do we do?"

Carol moved forward, "Let him in, of course! The poor dear."

The tall boy by the door held out his hands to stop the woman, "But what about Blaine? We can't let anybody in! He'll freak out!"

Just when Carol was about to reply, there came a deep and muffled voice from the other side of the door, "I can here you in there. Could you please let me in? I just have to use your phone. I promise I'm not going to hurt anybody or something."

"Oh, move out of the way!" Carol said impatiently, and pushed David to the side to open the door. "Oh, hello. Sorry; we had a little disagreement." Standing on the doorstep in the rain was a man in a baseball cap with a serious face. The woman knew that they deffinitely couldn't leave him out there. "Come in, you must be freezing!"

"Thank you very much, Miss." The man said, striding into the foyer and looking around at the group of people peering in at him. He cleared his throat, "I'm Burt Hummel. Could I please use your phone?"

Wes stepped forward as Carol closed the door to stop the cold from getting in. "What do you need it for?"

Finn piped up, "I'm assuming to call somebody, Wes."

Shooting him a glare, Wes ignored him and spoke to Burt once again, "I mean, what made you come all the way to our mansion in the pouring rain just to use a phone?"

Burt shifted his weight awkwardly, water dripping onto the foorboards, "Well, my truck broke down not far down the road. Listen, I promise I'll be outta your hair right away, I just need to call my son and let him know I'm alright."

At the words about his child, Carol immediately grew fonder when she knew she was dealing with a fellow parent. "I'm sorry, but we don't have a phone here. We're very secluded..." She moved forward when Burt looked crestfallen. "Don't worry, we'll get you dry and comfortable right now and then tomorrow we'll help you work out a solution, alright?"

The man still looked worried as she led him into the sitting room, everyone else following behind like sheep. She led him to sit down in a large chair. "David, could you go get some blankets for our guest?"

"Guest?" Wes spluttered as David scurried off.

Carol looked at the Asian boy firmly, "Wes, go make some tea." He started to argue, but she gave him her best _'do as you're told'_ look and he sulked away.

"Thank you, Miss." Burt said, looking around at the room from his place in the chair.

Carol smiled, "Call me Carol."

Burt smiled back, looking not as stressed as before, but the worry still lingered in his eyes and the set of his shoulders. Finn stepped forward, "I'm Finn!" He said proudly, holding out his hand for a firm handshake.

Carol gave a proud smile to Finn, "This is my son." Burt nodded.

David came back with a large quilt held in his long arms. "Here you go." He said, placing it snugly around Burt's broad back. It was then that Wes crept into the room, balancing a tray with a teapot on it. Carol took it from him and placed the silver tray on a small table.

Burt was warmer and was just starting to relax a little when Blaine exploded into the room.

* * *

><p>It was 3:00.<p>

His dad was an hour late.

Kurt Hummel was worried out of his mind.

As he paced the kitchen floor in a frenzy of nail-biting and muttering, checking the clock every few seconds, Kurt tried to keep his mind off of all the terrible things that could have happened, but he thought of them all anyway.

What if Burt had another heart attack? What if he crashed his car? What if he was lying in a ditch somewhere? What if he got mauled by a bear? What if he was kidnapped? What if he got pulled into a tornado? What if somebody shot him? What if there was a bomb in his truck?

Kurt was usually one who worried and got a tad bit over-dramatic. However, every other time this happened, his father would come home and reprimand him for it...he was never over an hour late, especially without calling him to let him know he was alright. So, it was only logical that Kurt's paranoid brain jumped to the conclusion that his dad was _not_ alright.

All Kurt knew was that he had to do something! Finally giving in to his urges, he wrote a quick note (just in case Burt came home before he did), then grabbed a jacket and his keys off of the hanger on the wall, walking out the door.

As he got further away from Lima, the weather deteriorated from '_meh_' to '_miserable_'. The rain pattered on his windsheild like a rabbit's heartbeat and his wipers would working rapidly in compensation. Kurt was extra careful to be a safe driver in the conditions, not wanting to end up in danger himself, and kept his eyes open for anything that could lead him to his father.

He was about half-way to Westerville when he saw something that he was both hoping for and dreading. His father's truck was parked on the side of the road. Quickly pulling over behind the familiar vehicle, Kurt cut the engine and jumped out to asess the situation. His dad was not in the truck, nor was he anywhere to be seen. The front hood was slightly open and the toolbox was discarded on the driver's seat; evidence of car problems and attempts to fix them. Kurt was a little relieved to see that; it meant that his dad was able to try and fix his car.

But he still didn't know where Burt was.

Kurt was getting soaked to the bone, not caring that his clothes were probably ruined, and looking around him desperately for any sign of his dad. It was then that he saw a light in the trees and decided to investigate.

* * *

><p>"What's going on?" Blaine growled, taking in the scene, his gaze lingering in panic at the man sitting in the chair. "What's he doing here?"<p>

At the arrival of the sudden and intimidating appearance of Blaine, Burt had stood up and put up his arms in defence. He didn't seem to have any control over his voice when he let out, "What _are_ you?"

Blaine's face twisted, his fangs showing as he snarled at the man, his shoulders bunched as he lunged towards him, shouting, "_What are you doing here?_ You're not supposed to be here! _No one_ can see me!"

"Blaine! Please stop! You're scaring him!" Carol said, putting herself between the beast and the man, "Just calm down, sweetie," she said, placing her hand on his furry forearm.

Blaine jerked his arm away violently, "_Don't_ call me that! And I _should_ be scaring him! He shouldn't be here at all! How could you let him in? Now he _knows_!" He whirled around and flung a chair at the opposite wall. Everyone else in the room flinched. Blaine stalked up to Burt, who had gone very white, but stood his ground. Blaine leaned over so that he was close to the man's face, hazel eyes staring into green. "You should have run away when you had the chance." He said softly, his voice becoming less of a growl and more like his real voice...the voice of an angry, hurt and vulnerable teenage boy.

Burt narrowed his eyes a little, looking closely at Blaine's face, at the pain and deep sadness in his eyes. "I'm not afraid of you," he said after a moment, "And I'm not gonna run. No one pushes the Hummels around."

Blaine bared his fangs once more and looked like he was going to roar, when an entirely new voice rang through the open spaces of the mansion. "Hello? Dad, are you here?" The voice seemed to be coming from the foyer.

The servants looked at each-other in confusion; Blaine almost tore the curly hair out of his head; and Burt gasped in recognition. Everyone looked to him as he whispered, "Kurt."

Carol connected the dots. "Burt, is that your son?" The man nodded, looking like he wanted to run to his son but also keep him away from everything going on in the room. It turned out he had no choice of the two, because Kurt entered the door a few moments later, soaking wet and stressed.

His eyes found his father first. "Dad! Oh, thank God," he said, looking like the weight of the world was lifted off his shoulders. It was then that he saw the other five people in the room. He panned over Wes, David, Finn and Carol in slight curiousity before he came to Blaine. Then he gasped and stared in shock.

Blaine, too, seemed to be frozen on the spot. "Who are you?" he asked. To the shock of everyone else, his voice came out more human than beast.

"I-I'm Kurt Hummel." Burt ran over to his son and brought him in for a hug. Kurt spoke into his dad's chest, his high voice muffled by the damp fabric, "Dad, I was so worried, I thought you were dead, I had to look for you, and then I saw your truck and I couldn't find you..."

Even Blaine seemed to soften at these words. Burt asked his son, "You drove your car here, right?" Kurt nodded, and Burt directed his next words at the people standing in the room. "Okay, so we can leave your mansion, then. Everything's okay, right?" he said, backing away from Blaine slightly.

"No!" Blaine yelled, becoming furious once again. "You can't leave!"

"What do you mean, we can't leave?" Burt said, sounding a little threatening, himself. He looked pale, though, and not from fright. Kurt gave him a worried look, knowing that he must be under a lot of stress.

Blaine looked around wildly, not knowing what he was doing, but trusting his gut. His instincts told him that they needed to stay. _And you always have to follow your instincts,_ he told himself, _being the animal you are_. He shook that voice out of his head, but listened to its words. "I won't let you leave."

"Blaine, what are you doing?" Carol said, looking very concerned.

"Don't question me! I'm the master of this house now! You will do what I say and I say that you can't leave!"

Kurt looked slightly panicked, but not for himself. "Please, my dad has heart problems. Just let us go home."

"Did you hear what I said-" Blaine roared, but was cut off by a desperate plea from Kurt.

"What if I stay?"

Burt and Blaine spoke in unison, "What?"

Kurt took a deep breath and stepped away from his father, towards Blaine, looking slightly terrified, but determined. "Will you let my dad go home if...if I stay here with you?"

Blaine seemed to think on it for a while. "Blaine..." Carol said in a warning tone. She clearly didn't approve.

However, Carol's wasn't the only voice he was hearing right now. There was another woman's voice...the old woman! Blaine had heard her voice twice before: the first being the day he was cursed and the second when she had come to him in a dream to tell him of the loophole in the curse. She spoke to him in his head now with a voice like green smoke, "The boy cannot leave. He is your only hope."

Blaine looked up with a determined look. "Yes. Your father may leave only if you agree to stay with me."

The servants in the room started to argue with him, but Kurt ignored all of them and spoke only to Blaine. "Deal." His voice shook a little, but the tone was strong.

"Kurt, no!" Burt said, looking frantic.

Kurt gave him a quick hug, "Dad, please, you have to take care of yourself. This...this is too much...you have to get home, alright? I'll be okay. I love you."

Burt struggled as he was pushed towards the front door, "No! I'm not going to leave you with this monster!"

Blaine snarled, "You don't have a choice." he said, pushing Burt outside, then shutting the door in the man's face and locking it.

**Author's Second Note: This chapter was terrible. I'm sorry. I kind of had to force it out of me and it took a lot of effort, but it's here! Let me know how I did? Even if you thought it was terrible, tell me that and how you think I could improve it. Reviews keep me writing!**

**Take care.**  
><strong>-Patricia Sage<strong>


	5. Sleepless Night

**Chapter 5**

**Author's Note: Hey, everyone reading this fanfiction! Sorry for not updating, like, ever. I would give you excuses, but you wouldn't read them anyway, so I'll just apologize. I hope that you still continue to read this story, because it means so much that you're reading it right now, and I hope that you like this chapter! Please give me feedback or suggestions or anything in a review! They keep me writing!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Glee_ or _Beauty and the Beast_.**

Kurt was curled up on the large bed, crying. He had been shown a room by a sullen-looking Asian boy and left there to his own devices. The room was very large, with a walk-in closet and a book case and a huge, four-poster bed, but Kurt felt like he would rather be out in the rain than in this fancy bedroom.

He was incredibly relieved that his father would be going home safely but, now that the adrenaline had worn off, the teenager just found himself to be feeling very distressed, scared, and helpless. And so he did all that he could do...cry.

* * *

><p>No one knew what to say when Wes left with Kurt to show him to his bedroom. For a few solid minutes, all that was heard was the crackling of the flames in the fireplace and the echo of the door that was slammed moments ago. Carol, Finn and David simply stared at Blaine with judgement clearly shining in their eyes until the cursed boy finally snapped.<p>

"_What_?" He hated when people stared at him.

Carol moved towards him, not threatened in the least as she craned her neck to stare him in the face. "What do you mean, _what_? How could you do this, Blaine?" She shoved him in his broad chest until he allowed himself to be pushed back into the chair that Burt had been comfortably sitting in, moments before.

He looked up at the woman with defensive hazel eyes. "I have my reasons," he said, baring his teeth, but it didn't come out as forceful as he had intended, and Carol was never one to be preturbed by his beastly look.

"Well, I think that you should share these reasons with the rest of us, because it doesn't make any sense to me! Why couldn't you just let that man and his son leave? Why did you have to make this poor boy suffer?" Carol had her hands on her hips and was staring down at the beast with a hard look of dissaproval.

"I had no choice, Carol." Blaine finally muttered, his voice no longer like a growl, but simply like a teenage boy.

Against her will, the mother's temper softened a little at his tone. "Oh, Blaine. Please tell me why you did it."

"I heard her," Blaine spoke to his clasped hands in his lap, "The old woman who cursed me. She spoke in my head, telling me that the boy...Kurt...is my only hope."

Carol's eyes softened even more. "Okay, Blaine. I don't like it, but I understand." She moved forward and placed her hand on the boy's large, hairy one. "But, you have to realize how hard this must be for Kurt."

"Of course I do!" Blaine snapped. "I feel terrible, okay? I may be a monster, but I'm not heartless! I just...Carol, I had to do it! I _had _to."

Carol seemed to think his explanation over in her head as she studied his expression. Then, she slowly nodded and patted his knee carefully. "Alright, honey. Why don't you get some sleep? I'll talk to Kurt; I think he needs someone right now." Blaine nodded his head without looking up. Carol knew that he wouldn't be going to bed any time soon.

* * *

><p>A knock at the door startled Kurt out of his thoughts. He raised his head from the white pillow and wiped his face a little to rid it of the tears that were drying there, but that didn't get rid of the feeling one gets after crying. "Who is it?" He called out, hating that his voice broke from lack of proper use.<p>

"It's Carol. Honey, can I come in?" The woman at the door had a kind, motherly voice and Kurt found himself trusting her against his will and consenting her entrance. She opened the door slowly and saw him on the bed, red-faced and miserable. "Oh, sweetheart," she said simply, "I'm so sorry."

Kurt looked down at the light blue blankets beneath him. He hadn't bothered to do anything except fling himself on top of the bed. He felt it dip a little as Carol sat down beside him. She was comfortably close, but not intruding his personal space. "Kurt, was it?" She asked politely.

"Yeah, that's me," he said, not looking up. He knew he was being quite rude, but he didn't care. Apperently, neither did Carol.

"I know that this is really tough for you, sweetie, but I want you to know that we're not bad people, okay? It's just...we're under some strange circumstances. Blaine did what he had to."

"Oh yeah?" Kurt said, finally looking up. He intended to rant, but the woman in front of him looked so kind-hearted that he ended up sounding simply sad instead of angry. "He _had _to threaten and kidnap me? Stick me in some castle? Force me to live with you guys in isolation for no apperent reason?"

She looked so regretful that Kurt felt bad for taking it out on her. "Kurt, there _is_ a reason. A very big reason. But I want Blaine to tell it to you, himself, alright?"

"'kay..." Kurt said, and he half-heartedly returned the comforting hand-squeeze Carol gave him.

"Why don't you join all of us for breakfast tomorrow morning, okay? In the meantime, try to get some sleep, honey." She patted his hand once more, then left the room quietly, leaving Kurt to his thoughts. Trying to get comfortable in a strange bed, Kurt fought back tears once more as he thought about his father.

He didn't think he was going to sleep very much.

* * *

><p>Finn didn't feel like sleeping. His momma had gone to talk to the pale boy who was staying with them now, but Finn didn't want to go to bed like she had told him to. So, instead, he crept out of his bedroom and tried to go down the stairs as silently as possible.<p>

"Why are you still up, Finn?"

He mustn't have been silent enough. Finn looked guiltily up at David, who was staring at him in curiosity. "I don't wanna sleep." He said.

David sighed, then beckoned to the other boy. "Do you want some toast or something?" he asked, while Finn followed him into the kitchen.

"Yes, please!" piped Finn, "With Nutella!"

"Sure thing," David chuckled as he pressed the lever on the toaster down.

Finn sat on one of the stools by the counter and hummed a little tune. Then he got bored. "Hey, David?"

"Yes, Finn?"

"So, this Kurt guy could break Blaine's spell?" He was really excited, because maybe this boy could make Blaine smile...Finn had never seen him smile.

The toast popped, and David spread the hazelnut substance on the two slices. "Apperently, it's a possibility. I really hope so." He handed one to Finn, who ate it in 20 seconds flat, and then ate his own much slower. "Blaine deserves it, you know, being freed of this curse. It was so unfair, for him to take the repercussions of his parents' actions."

"Yeah..." Finn was going to say something, but it was interrupted by a yawn.

David moved away from the counter. "Come on, Finn, let's get you to bed before your mom yells at both of us, okay?"

"Okay," Finn said, glancing into the living room to see Blaine in his chair by the fire, staring off into space. He really hoped that this Kurt was the one. They were running out of time.

**Author's Second Note: Thank you so much for reading this to the end! I know it was another wimpy nothing-chapter, and I'll try to put out better ones in the future, but please review and tell me what you thought! xoxo**

**Take care.**  
><strong>-Patricia Sage<strong>


	6. Breakfast

**Chapter 6**

**Author's Note: Hello. Yes, this story is still alive, put away your AED. I hope you like the chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own nothin'. DOUBLE NEGATIVE!**

A tense silence filled the dining room the next morning, broken only by the clink of silverware on dishes. Carol had made eggs and sausages and toast. It was a lovely breakfast, and Wes, David, Finn and the cook herself were enjoying the food. Not Blaine. His empty plate sat in front of him as he stared at the unoccupied chair at the other end of the table.

Kurt hadn't come down for breakfast.

Although he tried to fight it down, the feeling of bitter disappointment came up in Blaine's throat. He really wanted to talk to Kurt. To explain to him. To get to know him.

But, really, didn't have a right to be disappointed. He didn't expect Kurt to trust him right away. Plus, Blaine hadn't had much experience with making conversation. He hadn't talked to anyone but his servants in two years. Of course Kurt didn't want to have breakfast with him. But, still, the cursed boy couldn't shake the unbearable wish for Kurt to like him.

But who could like (never mind _love_) a beast?

Blaine forcefully got up, startling the other people in the room when his chair scraped across the floor. "Why isn't he here?" he demanded to no one in particular, trying to keep those _damn_ emotions out of his voice, "He said he would come down for breakfast!"

"Maybe he slept in…" Finn offered.

He didn't sleep in. Blaine doubted that he slept at all.

However, the seventeen-year-old didn't want to lash out at Finn. The boy was so infuriatingly optimistic that it made Blaine want to scream, but he didn't deserve any harsh words. So, instead, Blaine muttered, "Maybe," and then left the room before he could ruin another morning for everyone else.

He made his way up the stairs and then down the hall to his bedroom, where he threw back the curtains and stared out the window, fighting back the self-loathing that made him want to shatter the mirror on the wall over there that prevented him from pretending he was normal. It was getting harder and harder to pretend, to hope, when his eighteenth birthday was quickly approaching, like the lights of a speeding train…and he was tied to the tracks.

* * *

><p>Kurt didn't get much sleep that night. The sounds of the howling wind and rain against his window combined with the worry for himself and his dad kept him awake like a splash of water to the face every hour. It seemed like the night lasted forever but, before he knew it, the room around him grew gradually brighter as it entered the hours of dawn. Kurt sat up in bed, going to the dresser to find something to wear. Carol had filled it with some of Finn's old clothes for him.<p>

His eyes felt like they were filled with sand, and he rubbed them harshly every few minutes. Wearing a dark purple T-shirt and some jeans rolled up at the ankles, he made his way to the small dresser against the wall. It had a built-in mirror and Kurt cringed a little at his reflection. His eyes were red-rimmed from crying and lack of sleep, there were dark shadows underneath them, and his hair was tousled and matted from the rain and a restless night. He looked like shit.

Kurt made his way into the bathroom and washed his face, brushing his teeth and running a comb through his hair until he looked half-ways presentable. He walked past the dresser once more on his way out, but something caught his eye before he could leave. There was something sticking out of the darkness underneath the wooden furniture.

Kneeling down, the blue-eyed boy reached under the dresser until he grasped the mystery object, pulling it out to inspect. It was a photograph, covered in a thin layer of dust. Kurt brushed it off and looked at it in curiosity.

It was one of those pictures that a family takes together, where they're dressed in their best and placed together by the photographer in order to look orderly and semi-natural. There were three people in the picture; a mother, a father and a son.

The woman was sitting down on a chair, her long legs crossed under a dark red dress. The man was standing stiffly behind her, hands clasped in front of him and wearing a dark blue suit. However, it was the boy that drew Kurt's attention. He was the only one in the photo who actually looked at ease. While his parents were awkward and barely-smiling, the boy had a grin that lit up his whole face. He was standing by the arm of his mother's chair, wearing a blue shirt, red pants and a bowtie. He looked to be about fourteen years old, with curly hair and deep hazel eyes.

Kurt was curious. Who were these people and why was their picture under this dresser? Shrugging slightly, Kurt slid the photograph into his pants pocket and made his way out of his new bedroom. He was late to breakfast on purpose, but he was getting a little too hungry to resist much longer.

Carol looked up in surprise as Kurt entered the dining room. She was just cleaning up all the dishes from the table. "Sorry," Kurt muttered, looking down at his rolled-up jeans, "I know I'm really late."

"Oh, that's no problem at all, sweetheart," Carol said, stopping what she was doing. "I actually saved you a plate, just let me warm it up."

Kurt slowly sat down at the table and waited until Carol came back with his food, trying not to eat like he was as hungry as he was. "You know," Carol said conversationally as she continued to clean up, "Blaine wished you would've come down to eat with the rest of us."

"I'm sure he did," Kurt said, piling his eggs onto his toast and faintly wondering how his dad was this morning.

Carol sighed and sat in the seat next to the tired boy. "He's not a bad person, I promise," she said softly, and Kurt looked up at her, looking like he wanted to believe her, but didn't.

"He's going to have to convince me otherwise, then," Kurt muttered, feeling bad when the woman beside him looked very sad. Suddenly, he remembered the photograph. He pulled it out of his pocket. "Hey, Carol, do you know who these people are?" he asked her, placing the picture on the table in front of her.

She gasped, picking it up gingerly. However, Kurt noticed the indecision on her face and realized that when she spoke to him she was keeping something from him. "They own the house, dear."

"What? Where are they, then?"

She bit her lip. "Finish your breakfast, dear," she said, and Kurt continued to eat while she explained. "They don't come around, anymore. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson packed up and left two years ago."

Kurt finishes off his plate and pushes it away from him slightly. "Why? And, what about the boy there? Where is he?"

"He never left."

The boy's brow furrowed, "You mean he still lives here?" When Carol nodded, Kurt mentally ran through everyone he had seen around the house but he couldn't remember seeing the boy in the picture. "I haven't seen him."

"No, you have. He just doesn't look like that, anymore." Kurt was confused and Carol's eyes were filled with sadness, so he didn't want to push. Carol took pity on him and gave him some information, though. "This boy," she said, gently tapping the photo, "This is who Blaine used to be." There were a million questions swimming in Kurt's blue eyes, but Carol got up before he could ask any of them. "That's all I'm saying, Kurt. If you want any more answers, I suggest you talk to him yourself."

With that, she left the room.

**Author's Second Note: Sorry, once again, for the late update and the short chapter. I hope you guys still like this story. Please review? Also, could you let me know which POV you like more: Blaine or Kurt. I'm going to have both POVs in this story, obviously. But I can have more of one than the other if you guys have a collective preference. xoxo**

**Take care.**

**-Patricia Sage**


End file.
